


Objective Romance

by writingblissfully



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Break Up, Crying, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Married Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26257540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingblissfully/pseuds/writingblissfully
Summary: It just made sense to fall into each other’s arms after one of them has had a bad day; it made sense to talk about their problems for hours until every single one of them seemed insignificant, as if they didn’t matter anymore.But this – this emotion that Davey didn’t know how to get rid of – this was something he was keeping to himself for a while now.Or: Jack and Davey unintentionally make wrong turns in their relationship.
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly
Comments: 7
Kudos: 20





	Objective Romance

**Author's Note:**

> This work was heavily inspired by the 1928 poem “Sachliche Romanze” (“Objective Romance”) by German author and poet Erich Kästner and its English translation by Hadi Deeb.

_Eight years they’d known each other well_

Jack and Davey have known each other for eight years now, and they’ve been dating for six of them. Their friends may have argued with that, because they insist the two boys have always acted like an old, married couple. But six years ago was when Jack had finally built up the courage to tell Davey how he felt. 

The evening of their senior prom was when they’d shared their first kiss, a prelude for many other kisses to be planted on each other’s lips over the years. Jack had looked into Davey’s eyes – Davey’s deep, _beautiful_ eyes – and had cried on the spot. Two years of repressing his feelings that came with being infatuated with someone like Davey, two years of adoration had shamelessly streamed down his face as Davey had reassuringly run his hand over Jack’s back as they’d swayed to the music that was playing. 

_(And one can say quite well at that)_

Davey was all Jack could’ve hoped for and more. They’d met in class in sophomore year; a boring English class Jack hadn’t been paying as much attention to as he should have. That was when David Jacobs stormed into the room, his face red and turned to the teacher as he rambled something about how he had just transferred here and couldn’t find the room. An unknown, warm feeling rose in Jack’s chest that day. He wasn’t sure when or how he had fallen in love with Davey, but he couldn’t deny that the first time he locked eyes with him, it did something to him that would change his entire way of thinking.

Shortly after that, their teacher teamed them up for a literature project, and that was when Jack started realizing that Davey was a straight-up _nerd_ who was way too much in love with literary works of people who have been dead for too long. He never went to bed later than ten p.m., even on the weekends. Whenever he was stressed out by homework, he would get up and pour himself a cup of tea. After two months of being friends, Jack had invited Davey to a party at his friend Race’s house and that was when Jack learned that Davey had never been to a friend’s house in his life before. 

The thing about Davey was: No matter what it was that he learned about him, it made Jack fall in love with him hard and fast. He could recall the times Katherine had given up on tutoring him to save his English grade, and now she watched him write and correct his essays until Davey told him they were good enough to be handed in. 

“I don’t know how he does it”, was what she would say when he witnessed any interaction between the two boys. Sarah, Race, Spot and Crutchie were the ones who had to break it to her that Jack didn’t put this much effort into his homework because Davey was a good teacher. 

“Kath, those two are _so_ in love with each other”, Sarah had said to her. She knew her brother better than anyone else, and there couldn’t have been any other explanation for Davey’s recent behavior. The time he usually spent studying for hours on end in his room or watching history documentaries on Discovery Channel were now dedicated to meeting _Jack_ at the mall for lunch, going to the movies with _Jack_ , even sleeping over at _Jack’s_ place. She’d heard him say Jack’s name more than any other word in the past few months, and watching her brother crawl out of his shell was something that made her insanely happy. 

Most of their friends had been there for Jack’s promposal, and they’d been there for the incredibly sweet kiss Davey had given Jack on the day of their high school graduation when Jack had swept him off his feet with the fact that they would be attending the same university after the summer. 

No one was surprised the day Jack asked Davey to marry him three years later.

_When suddenly their love’s light fell_

Their first year of marriage had been the happiest year of their lives. They were still in college, the rent for their tiny apartment was a burden, but they were happy. The thin, shiny wedding band around his ring finger quickly became Davey’s favorite piece of accessory, and he would not so subtly show it off to anyone they met. 

Even almost three years into their marriage, Davey was surprised Jack was able to keep his ring clean. Everything his husband owned was always covered in paint, and Davey had told him to be more careful when painting. The ring, however, was as neat and clean as it was the day Davey had put it on Jack’s finger for the first time. 

The only thing Jack couldn’t let Davey know was that he barely wore his wedding band anymore. 

_Like other lose a cane or a hat._

They never really went to bed together anymore. Quite often, Jack would paint during the nighttime, telling Davey he shouldn’t wait for him if he was tired. So Davey, who usually had lectures to attend in the mornings, went to bed by himself. 

One night, Jack had been less careful than usual. He stood in front of his easel, brush in hand, looking at the blue paint that had dropped down onto the golden metal of his ring. He hadn’t even noticed. 

The paint had dried already.

_And sadness rose, then merry lies,_

If Davey had learned anything about himself in the past few years, it was that he was a man of logic. Everything he had ever felt in his life before always – to some extent – made sense. 

Falling in love with Jack was one of the easiest things he has ever done. Davey had always known he liked boys, and he didn’t deny to himself that Jack was very attractive and exactly his type when they first met. 

He didn’t question or doubt his own feelings when he started realizing that he wanted the relationship between Jack and him to be more than just platonic. The only thing he could never be certain of was how Jack felt about them, and he hadn’t been sure if he should risk this friendship that made him so much more open to the world than he had ever intended to be. So naturally, he was relieved when Jack had told him he had developed feelings for Davey. 

They never kept secrets from each other after that. It just made _sense_ to fall into each other’s arms after one of them has had a bad day; it made sense to talk about their problems for hours until every single one of them seemed insignificant, as if they didn’t matter anymore. 

But this – this emotion that Davey didn’t know how to get rid of – this was something he was keeping to himself for a while now. 

He wasn’t sure if he felt sad per se. If it wasn’t sadness, he had thought that it might have been depression, but that was also a no. He wasn’t depressed. 

Sometimes, when he didn’t feel like thinking about it, he would push this issue aside and start reading a book, or cook dinner, or call his sister to talk about their day. He was sure that sometime soon, he would find a simple solution to the problem because that had worked for most of his life. He’d snuggle up against Jack at night, he’d draw tiny circles on the tan skin of Jack’s arms, and the world would make sense again. 

Except that nowadays, Davey usually drifted off without the comforting warmth of his husband beside him. He understood that they were both still in college and money was tight. So very often, he was okay with Jack painting commissions during the night if it meant supplementing their pitiful incomes just a little. 

He never expected Jack to come to bed these days. Davey would read a book or do some work for one of his classes, and then he’d brush his teeth and go to sleep.

It was okay, it made sense. Sarah would tell him it didn’t. 

Okay, maybe it really didn’t. No need to lie to himself.

But he couldn’t bring himself to stop thinking that he was sort of, kind of okay with it. 

_And kisses flew to cloud their fate._

Sleeping with Jack had become an unpleasant experience for Davey. 

After their first time as teenagers, they’d spent countless acts of love together. Usually, when they lay in bed afterwards, the air surrounding them still warm and inviting, Davey had felt nothing but satisfaction and bliss. He would bend over to lazily plant sweet kisses on Jack’s lips, and Jack would reciprocate and endearingly run his hands over Davey’s still sensitive, bare skin. 

The sex and the kisses were still there. For two men in their early twenties, it would have been a strange thing to admit that they never touched each other anymore. But Jack still received kisses, and Davey still felt firm fingers touching his skin. 

What was missing was the comfortable atmosphere after they were done. Nowadays, Davey always felt like he just ran a marathon and he was the last one to make it to the finish line. The kisses were exhausting, mostly just something that had always been a part of this and needed to be there if it was supposed to feel like sex. 

Sometimes Davey felt Jack’s eyes lingering on him. Not just when he slept with him, but also in their day to day routine. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. It was hard to tell whether there was something Jack had been meaning to talk to him about or if he was waiting for Davey to make the first move. 

That was when Davey noticed there were in fact moves that had to be made. 

_Without a plan they’d wed their eyes;_

One of Davey’s most useful abilities was that he was able to conceal his feelings when something bothered him. It was an ability he had never really used around Jack, but it had become more common for him to not talk to his husband about little things that worried him because he could feel Jack had enough on his plate already. 

Balancing art school and several jobs at the same time was hard, even for someone as ambitious as Jack Kelly, so he wanted to give Jack the space he needed to cool down a little. 

A disadvantage of that was that they never talked much anymore. It was rare for them to be in their apartment at the same time, and when they were, there was only enough time to talk about banalities. When they then saw each other again at night, there was always lots of work to do. There were Davey’s university projects, Jack’s commissions and of course the physical intimacy between them which – more or less – had become a chore more than anything else. 

All they ever did was lock their knowing eyes. But what to say, neither of them knew. 

_At last he wept, beside his mate._

Davey should have known it was a bad idea to hold in all those feelings when all he ever did for the past few years was learn how to feel freely. There was one day, one of the very rare days where the two of them decided they should spend some time together outside of their apartment, when Davey broke down and shed all the tears his subconsciousness had told him to swallow down until they would mysteriously evaporate at some point. 

They stood on the sturdy pavement of a busy Brooklyn street when it happened. Davey had never been one to cry in public. But realizing that he didn’t want to take Jack’s hand as they walked down the street – that was the final straw for him. 

It was kind of ironic that it was this tense moment that had to remind Jack of their prom night in senior year. The soft music, the lighting, the smell of non-alcoholic fruit punch and Davey’s cologne – the second their lips touched for the first time, and the hug that made Jack feel the safest he has ever felt in his life. 

He didn’t pull Davey into a hug that day. 

_A small café, the smallest lair_

Jack took his time to ask Davey if they should maybe get a coffee somewhere, sit down and talk. It was the only reaction Davey had gotten in response to his public breakdown, but he decided not to mention how poor it was. 

_They chose and stirred each with one hand_

Their black coffees had gone cold a while ago. Not that it mattered; they both liked their coffee with milk anyway. They knew this wasn’t exactly a moment either of them would enjoy, so they didn’t bother making their drinks enjoyable.

_When evening came, they sat still there;_

The conversation shared this evening was the most they had talked in weeks. No statement in their past conversations compared to the brutal honesty they confronted each other with while sitting in this foreign, cold café. 

Davey said they drifted. He hated the feeling, and he couldn’t place it. But this marriage didn’t feel like one anymore. 

Jack said he liked to be alone these days. He didn’t feel the need to be with Davey anymore, and he felt guilty for thinking that way.

_They sat alone, no words to share, ___

__

__There weren’t many words spoken after that, at least very few which concerned their feelings for each other. They mostly talked about what actions would follow their realization, and whether they should try to save whatever was left or file for a divorce._ _

__Neither of them spent the night in their apartment that night. Davey spent it the way that felt natural to him, sleeping over at Katherine and Sarah’s place and eating vanilla ice cream with his sister until his heart stopped aching for a while._ _

__Jack crashed at Crutchie’s. He didn’t feel like explaining anything to his friend and Crutchie didn’t ask. It must have been around three in the morning when he checked his phone for the last time before finally starting to feel tired enough to sleep. It didn’t make sense for him to wait for a text from Davey that would make everything okay again, and he knew for sure he wouldn’t have agreed to get back together anyway._ _

__It was when he had almost fallen asleep that he shed a couple of tears. It was impossible to tell whether they stemming from guilt, relief or a broken heart. Understanding things had become so hard. If they did make a wrong turn at some point in their marriage, he wouldn’t have known what crossroad to drive back to or which exit of which roundabout to take to fix things._ _

__

_And simply couldn’t understand._

__

__Jack wasn’t sure when or how he had fallen out of love with Davey._ _


End file.
